"You may answer, Mr. Swift," the lieutenant said.
Eric picked up the tube, answered "Hello!" and then repeated the operator's words to the officer:
"Liner Kirkmore, on fire and sinking, forty-one degrees, eleven minutes north; thirty-five, sixteen west; crew and passengers to boats."
With a word to Eric, the lieutenant dispatched the messenger to report to the captain, plotted the position of the Kirkmore on the chart, and, less than two minutes after the receipt of the wireless message, the Itasca had changed her course and was speeding under forced draught into the night. The cutter had broadcasted the call and word had been received from land stations and other vessels that the call had been heard. Still the Itasca was one of the nearest to the reported location of the vessel in distress and she fairly hissed through the water.
Presently there was another message from the wireless room, and, as before, Eric took up the speaking tube and reported to the officer of the deck.
"'Very strange thing, sir,' he repeated, after the operator, 'I'm picking up a faint call from a small apparatus. I think it must be on one of the boats. The Lucania is racing for the Kirkmore, I've picked up her call.'"
"Ask him what he considers strange?" said the officer.
Eric put the query and again repeated:
"He says, sir: 'It's this way, sir. The first call stated that all the passengers and crew had taken to the boats.'"
"Well?"